


Kinda Sketchy

by BastilleWolf



Series: Corpse Husband [2]
Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: But is also kinda sketchy, Corpse gives great hugs, F/M, Fluff, Roommates, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastilleWolf/pseuds/BastilleWolf
Summary: Corpse always fears he comes across sketchy when he doesn’t let friends into his YouTube room, especially now that he has a new roommate.
Relationships: Corpse Husband (YouTube)/Reader, Corpse Husband/Reader, Corpse/Reader
Series: Corpse Husband [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985129
Comments: 3
Kudos: 405





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small thank you to 1K followers on my Tumblr. I’ve gained so many since I started posting Corpse fics and I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my writing.

You’d rung the doorbell and waited patiently. You felt excited, mostly because everything you’d seen so far had already completely lived up to your expectations. The apartment complex was super well-maintained and one of the neighbours had politely introduced themselves even though you hadn’t even officially moved in yet. The street was quiet and in a nice neighbourhood and a store was in walking distance. It did all seem a bit too good to be true, considering the reasonable amount of rent.

You heard footsteps and then a slight halter before the door was finally opened. “Hey,” ‘Corpse’ greeted, because that’s the only name he had on his online profile. You’d asked him if it was his actual name, but he’d told you it was only for privacy’s sake. If it had been, you wondered what his parents were like and what kind of roommate you were actually going to end up with. He hadn’t had a profile picture either, which made you even more skeptical. When you told him so, he’d agreed to converse with you through a phone call, but that didn’t diminish your concerns. He had a deep, sultry voice, making you wonder if he was some kind of successful conman.

But standing here now, you saw that the profile and voice were nothing like the young man in front of you. He looked to be about your age, or at the very least in his twenties. Okay, now you still wanted to meet his parents to see who he got his genes from. But that’s a bit weird, isn’t it? You shook the thought away, and politely said hello back and that it was nice to finally meet him. “You too. Come on in.”

“Wow, this is really nice!” you exclaimed, and Corpse gave you a look that said he noticed how surprised you’d sounded. “I’m sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, “You didn’t really have a lot of good pictures online and it seemed kind of sketchy. I was mostly wondering if I was going to end up dead. But this is great!” It was really great, even if it was ‘manly’.

By ‘manly’, – though there was no intention of making this sexist, this was just the best way you could describe it – you meant that it was all a bit empty. The walls were all white, except for one grey one on the side of the kitchen, the furniture was simplistic and dark without any carpet to cover the pale laminate flooring. No pictures, no paintings, no accessories. “How long have you lived here for?”

He shrugged, “Like, three years.”

Oh.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea? I’d offer soda but I don’t really have any.”

“Tea’s good,” you replied. Tea was always a gamble, because you had to wait for it to cool down to be able to drink it and only when drank you could leave. Those are the rules of tea. However, for some reason your gut told you it was fine, and you felt utmost comfortable around this stranger.

He turned on the kettle, and got a mug out of his kitchen cabinet. Dang, even his tableware was bland. You were gonna have to fix that. Your mismatching array of mugs deserved a special place in a mismatched kitchen. “Do you travel a lot?”

He furrowed his brows and turned back to look at you. “No, why?”

“I don’t want to be rude,” you admitted.

“I don’t care, you can tell me.”

“You don’t really seem to have a lot of… personal things in your apartment.”

He huffed, “Oh, yeah. I’m not really good at decorating. I was hoping to find someone who was.”

“Well, good thing you found me, then.”

He smiled.

You sat on one side of the corner sofa, and he diagonally across from you on the other side. He had music softly playing on his tv, seemingly a playlist for lo-fi hip-hop. You asked each other a few basic questions; where you were from, what your hobbies were, if you had any pets and if so, if you could bring them with you. It wasn’t until the question of occupation came up that he tensed. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he assured, but you weren’t convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to tell you some basic things about the apartment, I just reminded myself.”

“Oh, okay.”

He walked you to the window, showed you were the trash would be picked up and where you could store your bike if you had one. He walked you down to the parking lot and showed you his space, telling you to feel free to park there because he didn’t own a car anyway. He talked to you about the rent, about which neighbours to avoid and how to use the buzzer.

“So, since you’re telling me all of this, I’m presuming we’re going to be roommates?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, isn’t that why you came over?”

“Yes, but usually this feels more like a job interview. You’ve barely asked me anything; not even my references, or qualities and flaws. What if I’m a massive slob?”

He chuckled, “I think you were pretty straightforward already when we’d texted. You seemed like the most honest candidate, and I had a good feeling about you. Besides, I don’t think you could be a bigger slob than me.”

“I think it’s very tidied, actually.”

“That’s because I cleaned before you got here. Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“So this is more like a reverse job interview?”

“I guess so,” he laughed, “There’s just one more important thing I need to tell you.”

“All right.”

“Don’t go into that room.” He nodded towards the door to his left, next to the TV. “There’s some work stuff in there that I can’t talk about.”

“Woah. You FBI or something? Or are you going to have to kill me for asking questions?”

He chuckled awkwardly. He did seem genuinely nervous talking about it, but tried shaking it off by playing along. “Nah, you’re fine. It’s just… personal.”

“Is it your play room?”

Corpse suddenly felt himself starting to sweat. “What?”

“Like your X-Box and stuff?”

“I… Uh-“

You let out a laugh, and he felt the tension ooze off his shoulders. “I’m only joking! You don’t know that scene from Fifty Shades?”

“Uh, no. I’ve never seen that movie.”

“Good on you. But I promise I won’t go into your room. As long as you don’t go into mine. Because I will call the police.”

He chuckled, “You’re gonna call the police on your roommate?”

“Hey, I met you online and you just happen to be a guy who wears black clothes, has an incredibly deep voice and tells me I can’t go into a super secretive room. You could be a murderer for all I know.”

“And you’re okay with that as long as I don’t go into your room?” he asked.

“Oh, sure. Everyone has their hobbies.” You both smiled, and already felt at ease knowing you shared at least a similar sense of humour. You’d dealt with roommates before who you just couldn’t click with, and this guy already had a chemistry with you after the first half hour you’d met.

“Anyway, uh, do you want me to show you around?”

You nodded happily. It’s what you came here for, after all.

He showed you his room and except for some clothes strewn across his unmade bed and a few plates and glasses left on the floor, it was tidy enough. Your room was about the same size as his, with a view of the street and the park below. “Didn’t you want this room?” you asked, “It has a much nicer view.” “No, it’s fine. I usually keep the curtains closed.” You left a question linger in the air because you didn’t want to ask it, but he already answered it or you. “I have really bad insomnia, so I just tend to crash whenever I can. You won’t hear from me at night, though, and if you do, just let me know.” “Likewise.”

It seemed you two got along really well already, very respectful of each other’s boundaries and schedules. Apparently, his work was an array of odd hours which he mostly spent in the room you weren’t allowed to enter. This was fine with you, even if you were a bit curious.

Well, a bit curious was an understatement.

You’d done a very good job of keeping your nose in your own business for the first two weeks. But after that, you couldn’t help but sneakily glance at him from the corner of your eye whenever he entered the room you were not allowed to enter. He’d spend hours in there, sometimes an entire day, only emerging from it to take a bathroom break or to get food. From the room that you were not allowed to enter came no noise, which you found strange, to say the least. You tried not to be too obvious about it whenever he opened the door, but did just happen to be lying directly across from it on the couch while reading a book. Or while you were watching tv. Or while eating. Sometimes, ‘napping’.

Of course, he noticed. But never mentioned it.

One day, you found yourself dying of boredom while he’d volunteered to do the groceries if you did the dishes. And of course, you were done earlier than he got back. So, you sat down on the couch, on your usual spot. Across the door to the room you were not allowed to enter. But underneath the door to the room you were not allowed to enter, you saw a sliver of light. Did he accidentally leave them on? Perhaps, you thought to yourself, perhaps it was a good idea to turn the lights off. After all, you also paid for the electricity bill, and if it saved you some money you would definitely turn those lights off in the room you were not allowed to enter. The room you were not allowed to enter always remained unlocked, after all, so who was to say you ever entered anyway?

You rolled the sleeve of your hoodie down over your hand and placed it on the doorknob. Hey, who were you to know if he actually was an FBI-agent? He’d find out. Was this really such a good idea? Oh, well, your hand suddenly spasmed. There was nothing you could do, the door was open.

“The fuck?”

It was an office. That’s all it was. Or a gaming room? He had two monitors and a very nice computer, so you concluded it was for gaming. The walls were covered with grey foam padding, the culprit of the soundproof room. He had a microphone screwed to his desk with a headset hanging on top of it. Why would he be so secretive about this?

You turned around. On the walls were finally the things you’d been looking for when you’d first entered the apartment. Paintings! Or, drawings and paintings. As well as letters. You couldn’t help yourself.

People thanking him for sharing stories, for getting them out of depression and making their lives so much better. People talking about his voice, primarily, and then some more about how they loved him and his YouTube channel. Wait a minute, his YouTube channel?!

He wouldn’t mind, you thought as you took a seat at his desk. He wasn’t an FBI-agent anyway (hopefully), so you decided it was okay to use his computer for a moment.

**YouTube**

_**Corpse Husband** _

_3.62 million subscribers_

“What are you doing?”

You jumped almost a foot in the air, and flipped around to see the man himself standing in the doorway, still holding the grocery bag.

“I… Uh… I was just…”

You both knew you didn’t have a proper way to get out of this. The damage was already done. So maybe you could try anyway?

“You, uh… You left the light on in the room. I wanted to turn it off to save the energy.”

“Ah, I see.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, until you cleared your throat, turned his computer to sleep mode and switched of the lights as you walked out. He didn’t say anything either as he started unpacking the groceries. He didn’t say anything during the entire time he cooked and you were setting the table.

He only spoke up when your plates were both empty. Well, mostly empty, because you were too nervous to finish yours.

“So, you wanna talk about what happened just there?” he asked.

You chewed on your lip. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I specifically asked you to not go in that room,” he said, his voice gradually raising in agitation, “That’s all I asked of you when you moved in here. I could’ve been an asshole and put you up with chores and have you pay more rent but I didn’t. I asked one thing of you.”

“I’m really sorry.” You wanted to shrink down into the floor, you felt so embarrassed. You never meant to upset him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Know who I was beforehand. Is that why you replied to my ad?”

“No, of course not! I’d never heard of you before. That’s why I was looking it up when you… when you walked in.”

He tried to determine if you were lying or not, and seemingly got his answer from the look on your face. He got up to move the dishes to the sink. You tiptoed after him.

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” you decided to ask.

“I’m a faceless Youtuber. No one knows who I am or what I look like. It was already risky for me to get a roommate, but you seemed oblivious so I thought it was fine.”

“I was oblivious,” you told him truthfully, “And you don’t need to worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

He turned around, resting his hands on the counter and leaning back against it. “I’m just supposed to trust you on your word?”

“I think that’s all you’ve got right now.”

His gaze didn’t waver from yours, but he was far away in his thoughts.

“I promise you, Corpse. No one will ever hear it from me. You can kick me out if you want to.”

Then, he finally shook his head. “No, you can stay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. As long as you do the groceries from now on. I fucking hate shopping.”

You snorted and watched a smile appear on his face, the tension in the room immediately dissipating. You playfully hit his arm. “Alright. It’s a deal.”

“Come here.”

He engulfed you in a warm hug, which you happily returned, and all was right in the world again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request:   
> "Can you do a part two of Kinda Sketchy where they slowly fall in love?"

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

_“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said._

_You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”_

_“That’s it,” he repeated._

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“ _Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?_ ” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“ _Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up_.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“ _Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot._ ”

“He… what?”

“ _Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-_ “

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“ _Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?_ ”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “ _Who are you talking to?_ ”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

* * *

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“ _Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…_ ” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“ _Oh- give me the phone_ -“ “ _Hey!_ ” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“ _Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!_ ”

“ _Unless it wasn’t your fault-_ “ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“ _Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!_ ” “ _Rae talks Corpse language, apparently_ ,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘ _I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance_ ’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“ _Wait, what?_ ”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“ _Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!_ “

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

 _Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking_ , you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. _Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-_

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.


End file.
